


Charming Miss Oswald

by Shiba_K



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6436381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiba_K/pseuds/Shiba_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While at work, Clara twists her ankle. The Doctor is there to provide some TLC and a hug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charming Miss Oswald

**Author's Note:**

> There is no plot, no plot whatsoever. This is a pure, self-indulgent piece of fluff.

The early January air was crisp and biting, but it did not seem to bother the children of Coal Hill Secondary School who had just returned to school after the Christmas holidays. Coal Hill’s schoolyard was bustling with activity. Clara Oswald was surveying the activities with a keen eye, watching from the top of the stairs leading down into the courtyard as the children enjoyed their lunch break and played with the remnants of the snow that had fallen during the holidays. 

It had been a white Christmas for a change instead of the normal sleet. The atmosphere had been magical, almost surreal. It had reminded Clara of those wonderful Christmases when she had been only a few years old, when snow wasn’t a rarity and her mother would fill the house with the smell of gingerbread. Not that this Christmas hadn’t been great, on the contrary. She and the Doctor had managed a relatively tranquil day with only a small group of Adipose creating some havoc, but even the small, cute blobs of fat hadn’t really been too keen on blowing up London. 

After taking the adipose back to their parents, the Doctor had landed the TARDIS in her apartment, but instead of letting him taking off, Clara had managed to convince him to eat Christmas dinner with her. She had visited her family the day before to make sure that there would be no repeat of that disastrous Christmas gathering two years ago. She had forgone preparing a turkey, instead opting for a small ham. Surprisingly nothing had been burned, and although her soufflé had imploded, it was miraculously cooked through. A clear success by their standards. There had been banter, and there had been stories told by the Doctor of some of his more hilarious adventures while she had updated him on how well her students had been doing in school. He had put on an air of indifference, although the glint of pride in his eyes and small smile tugging at the corner of lips had betrayed him. 

Once their bellies had been filled, she and the Doctor had curled up on her sofa to watch old Christmas movies and simply enjoy each other’s presence. The Doctor had refrained from making too many comments having been mostly engrossed with the feel of Clara’s soft hair as he combed his fingers through her brown locks. She had snuggled deep into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his holey jumper. In the end she didn’t see much of the film either, preferring instead to enjoy the serene moment to its fullest. 

Clara figured she must have dozed off after a while because the next thing she remembered was the feeling of feeble sunshine on her face, morning intruding in her peaceful dream world. The real surprise though, had been to find herself lying on top of a still slumbering Doctor, her head tucker under his chin. He must have stretched them out onto the small sofa, even retrieving the warm woolen blanket she normally kept on the back of the couch and covering their bodies with it. His arms had been holding her securely to his chest, tightening even in his sleep when Clara shifted a bit. He had woken up then, his bleary blue eyes immediately focusing on her. A happy smile had been followed by a kiss on her cheek, his lips catching the corner of her mouth. Whether that had been intentional or simply a matter of missing the target due to sleepiness Clara hadn’t been sure, but it had been enough to speed up her heartbeat just a fraction. Not that she had she been allowed much time to contemplate the kiss as the Doctor had soon thereafter began to complain about pudding brain couches and how bad they were for his back.

They had actually ended up spending most of the holidays together: adventuring and flirting, flirting and adventuring. She and the Doctor were slowly moving forward in their relationship. It had been steadily evolving into something more each day they were together. The idea of their friendship becoming something more, filled her with a kind of untempered joy. 

Clara smiled at the fond memories of the past week and the warm feeling they evoked in her chest, well aware of what it meant. Her smile widened even more when she caught sight of a familiar, light brown jacket moving in a corner of the courtyard near the electrical box. Apparently the Doctor had once again taken up his caretaker job at her school. For a fraction of a second Clara faltered in her step, one foot hovering over the top step uncertain. Was he here because of an alien threat? Was the school safe? 

But just as quickly as the questions had formed they vanished. No, if there was any sort of danger the Doctor would have told her. Today was simply a case of the Doctor hanging around her school. He had been doing that quite a lot recently, showing up at her work. Sometimes posing as the caretaker, other times roaming around the halls while she taught. And the rare times he didn’t, Clara would find him waiting for her at home when she came back from work, either ready to take her on an adventure as soon as her foot had crossed the threshold, or sitting at her kitchen table tinkering with an half-empty cup of tea as his company. They had abandoned Wednesdays after the dream crab incident. Any time was how they rolled now. And really, the idea of coming home to the Doctor was … quite pleasant. It always made butterflies flutter in her belly.

The man in question chose that moment to look up from his fiddling, his gaze immediately finding hers. Clara’s smile returned and the fluttering in her belly picked up a notch. Turning her head, she let her hair fall forward, obscuring the Time Lord and his small knowing grin from view, and the same time her own secret smile. With her hands stuffed deep in her coat pockets to ward off the cold, she descended the stairs, intent on making her way to the Doctor. 

It was only due to countless of close calls on their adventures honing her reflexes that Clara managed to jump out of the way of the incoming football when one of the Year 10s yelled at her to watch out. The football bounced innocently against the wall, missing her head by mere centimeters. Unfortunately for Clara, her reflexes couldn’t account for the layer of ice hiding just under the snow. When her right foot made contact with it, time slowed down to a crawl for Clara as her body readied itself for the inevitable impact with the ground as her center of gravity tipped. 

She registered several yells of ‘Miss!’ and one clearly Scottish accent rising above all the others calling out her name at the same time as she felt her ankle twist and gravity pulled her sideways. Lucky for her, she landed in a pile of snow that had been pushed aside to clear the courtyard which helped break her fall. Only slightly winded, Clara blinked once and soon found herself face to face with a pair of scowling eyebrows set atop of a pair of very concerned gray eyes. 

‘Clara, Clara, Clara! Are you alright? Those stupid pudding brains should be prohibited from playing such a dangerous game.’ The Doctor, crouching in front of her, turned to glare at the children in question who straightened and swallowed audibly. ‘Doctor,’ Clara gently admonished him, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his shoulder, ‘look at me.’ He did as he was asked, but not before giving the Year 10s a final glare. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry. The snow broke my fall. Good thing a certain caretaker made sure to pile it all up in this corner, hey?’ 

The Doctor’s scowl softened, eyebrows no longer drawn together, though much to her dismay, the lines in his face didn’t disappear entirely even as she reassured him. 

_Clara is fine_ , the Doctor told himself in an attempt to calm down, _nothing to worry about_. They had faced far worse. Nevertheless, his hearts had seized the moment he had seen her stumble on the icy patch of ground, immediately dropping his tools to rush over to her. _Clara is fine_ , he repeated to himself one last time, his heart rate finally slowing down. Standing up, he held out a hand to Clara with the intent of helping her get up, but she stumbled the moment she tried putting weight on her ankle, the joint protesting loudly. 

Clara let out a soft gasp as pain shot up her leg with her ankle refusing to support any of her weight. If it hadn’t been for the Doctor’s arms quickly wrapping themselves around her waist, she would have ended with her ass in the cold snow, again. Automatically Clara adjusted her stance, shifting her weight on to her good leg. Her right hand rested on the Doctor’s shoulder for support and she gave it a little squeeze of wordless gratitude. ‘Guess I’m not fine after all,’ she said sheepishly. She saw his jaw working, indicating he wanted to say something, yet he remained silent. Even his eyes were inscrutable. It was difficult to know what went on in his mind when the Doctor was like this, fully consumed by his concern for her and probably finding a way of blaming himself for this stupid little accident. 

‘Doctor…’ Clara started, but was interrupted by his gruff voice.

‘Can you walk?’ 

She was going to have to talk to him about this, this prickliness of his when her safety and health were in jeopardy. The schoolyard of Coal Hill during lunch break, however, was not the right place or time. The pair of them were already receiving enough curious stares from the inquisitive students who were not used to seeing the caring side of the cantankerous caretaker. Any more serious conversation would have to wait for when they were alone. For now, Clara’s best option was to humor him. 

Carefully and making sure to hold on to his arm, she put a bit of weight on her painful ankle only to reflexively tighten her grip when it gave way almost immediately. She tried to disguise her grunt of pain, but the Doctor’s arms nearly lifting her off the ground in his attempt at helping her told her he had heard it. To her surprise, a second later she was actually lifted off the ground entirely. Later she would deny having emitted a very unladylike squeak as the Doctor effortlessly picked her up and cradled her body to his chest. Sometimes she forgot the Time Lord’s hidden strength. 

Not that she was allowed much time to ponder her new position as several giggles coming from the archway caught her attention. A group of girls standing there were alternating between giggling, faces half hidden behind their hands, and letting out dreamy sighs. Clara thought she caught even one or two comments about how romantic the caretaker was being, and manly, a real Mr. Darcy. 

She cringed. 

‘You know, you could have just acted as my crutch,’ Clara grumbled looking up at her savior. 

‘And have you break your other ankle on the next patch of ice? Pfff. This is safer.’

‘Oh yeah? And what if you slip? You’ll break both our necks then.’

‘Oh please, Clara, I’m a Time Lord, our sense of balance is highly superior to that of humans.’

 _Great_ , Clara though, _just bloody great. Now I have to suffer through a lecture on ‘101 things Time Lords can do better’ as well_. A groan escaped her that was unrelated to the pulsating pain in her ankle. But despite her reluctance, her arms wrapped themselves securely around the Doctor’s neck. 

_Traitors_.

‘Miss, you ought to listen to him. You shouldn’t fight with your boyfriend.’ 

The smug voice of Courtney Woods drifted over from somewhere behind the Doctor. Her comment was immediately accompanied by another round of giggles from the same group of girls as before. To her horror, Clara felt her face heat up and knew her cheeks had just turned several shades darker. She almost let out another squeak when the Doctor suddenly spun around to face the teenager, her arms tightening reflexively. Unlike Clara he was not blushing. He blamed any redness of his cheeks on his elevated heartbeat due to his anxiety over Clara being hurt. 

‘What did you just say, disruptive influence?’ the Doctor barked, his piercing stare locked on to the young woman. Courtney’s smile only grew, unaffected as she was by the Doctor’s glare. 

All the children in the courtyard were now looking expectantly at the trio. Hushed whispers were traded back and forth, some questioning since when the caretaker and the English teacher were an item, others speculating about possible marriage dates. Meanwhile the Doctor and Courtney were caught up in a staring contest. The Doctor was not someone to back down from anything, and neither was Courtney Woods. God only knew what could happen if these two were ever left unsupervised. Clara rued the day they had met. 

_Right then_ , she thought to herself, _time to take control of things_. First she would deal with the Doctor, Courtney could come later. 

‘Doctor,’ she called his name to get his attention but he was too focused on glaring at Courtney. Sighing, Clara wondered who the actual teenager was here. It took a second try and her voice infused with her strict teacher tones to get the Time Lord to finally shift his gaze to her. 

‘Doctor.’

‘Clara.’

‘However nice it is to be held by you like this, my ankle actually does hurt and I think we have caused enough of a scene for one day.’

‘I’m not putting you down,’ the Doctor replied stubbornly. 

She let out another sigh. ‘Ok, then may I suggest we move this somewhere else, where we do not have a cackle of hormonal teenagers as an audience?’ She realized the mistake in her words a split second too late. The Doctor’s eyebrows shot up at Clara’s unintentional innuendo while a lot of eyes widened and more giggles went up, mixed with a few catcalls too from the more daring students. Mortified, she hid her face in the Doctor’s shoulder, hoping against hope for an alien invasion right in that moment, or anything really that would take the attention away from her. So much for taking control of the situation. 

It was the Doctor that came to her rescue for the second time in less than ten minutes. 

‘Ok, ye wee pudding brains, get back to your classes!’ he said loudly. In a lower voice he turned to the human woman still hiding her face in his shoulder, his glare softening. ‘Perhaps I could lend you some of my cards in the future.’ Clara inclined her head a fraction, opening one eye to gaze up at the Doctor. ‘That was not a funny joke.’ ‘No? And yet you are smiling,’ he grinned. Her lips were indeed fighting a losing battle, the corners lifting up no matter how much Clara tried to remain serious. Eventually she gave in, both eyes now gazing upward into the gentle gray orbs of the Doctor. It was a silly joke, they both knew that, just as well they both knew that it was impossible for her not to laugh at it. Ok, maybe she had it a bit worse for her Doctor than she might be willing to admit out loud. That was ok, though. Judging from the small grin on the Doctor’s lips and the warmth in his eyes he was just as bad as her. 

‘Is this going to take much longer?’ The annoyed voice of a teen-aged boy broke the spell, and the two adults realized they were still standing in the middle of the schoolyard and that nobody had moved despite the Doctor’s strict order. The boy in question was immediately admonished by several girls who scolded him for interrupting the moment. 

Clara blushed in embarrassment. The Doctor managed to both cough nervously and simultaneously scowl at the gawking students. 

Really, where were those aliens when you needed them?

Silently, they both agreed that a timely exit was in order. 

‘Back to yer classes, the lot of ye!’ The Doctor ordered, his tone holding a warning edge for all who decided to disobey. Their little audience reluctantly packed their bags and headed off in different directions, but not before Clara caught some of the girls giving her envying glances. Courtney Woods was the sole person who remained standing exactly where she was with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. The Doctor ignored her, tightening his hold on his precious cargo and taking a step in the direction of the caretaker’s shed. Clara didn’t. Craning her neck over the Doctor’s shoulder she addressed the young teen: ‘Miss Woods, I’d like to see you after classes,’ she stated with all the authority she could muster.

‘Sure you’d have time, Miss? I’m sure your…’

Before Courtney could finish her sentence, the Doctor stopped walking and half-turned toward her. ‘If you still want to go on that trip to Katras V, disruptive influence, you’d do well not to finish that sentence and do as Miss Oswald says,’ he instructed her. To Clara’s surprise, Courtney actually listened, backing down although she mumbled something under her breath. 

The situation handled to his satisfaction, the Doctor resumed his path to the caretaker shed ignoring the stunned Clara. 

‘No, wait, hang on. Did you just handle Courtney Woods?’

‘Psh, Clara, I can fend off an army of Daleks with one arm tied behind my back, I can handle a rowdy teen-aged pudding brain,’ the Doctor scoffed and kicked open the door to the caretaker’s sanctum. 

It was Clara’s turn to snort. ‘Yeah, this coming from the alien who was emotionally black-mailed by said rowdy teen-aged pudding brain to go on a trip to the moon.’ ‘If I remember correctly, that was you getting emotionally blackmailed.’ The Doctor looked pointedly at her while using his shoulder to push open the door with the GO AWAY HUMANS! sign hanging from a hook. 

Clara spluttered. ‘No, that was not… Hang on a minute,’ she said as realization dawned. She narrowed her eyes at the Doctor as he made his way through the many shelves and closets. They were brimming with all kind of supplies from paper towels for sinister spillages to power tools. She thought she recognized a piece of alien tech as well hidden behind a stack of buckets. ‘Katras V? What’s on Katras V? Did you promise to take her there without my knowledge? Doctor!’ Clara dug the fingers of her right hand in the back of his neck to get his attention. The Time Lord pretended for a moment to be too engrossed in the task of finding a clear spot on the work table where he could set her down. 

‘Doctor,’ she pressed. 

‘How’s your ankle?’ the Doctor asked as he gently lowered her onto the table’s surface. 

‘Throbbing,’ Clara replied catching his gaze, ‘and you are avoiding my question.’ 

The alien man stepped back with his hands held in front of him in a placating manner. ‘It was just a quick trip, Clara. You and I do it all the time,’ he gesticulated to emphasize his point. ‘We get chased by angry aliens all the time, you mean.’ She looked at him sternly and he shifted from one foot to the other guiltily. Clara’s sigh disturbed the dust particles in the air. ‘Did she emotionally black-mail you again?’ The Doctor opened his mouth, but no words came out. ‘Oh god, she did. Some big, bad Time Lord you are,’ Clara groaned. His mouth shut with a clank of his teeth. 

‘There you go, using that word again. Blackmail. That, that is such an ugly word. Not that that was how it went. And anyway, it worked out well today, didn’t it?’ 

Clara had to admit that it was sort of endearing the way he floundered and defended himself. She decided to let him off the hook, for now. He did manage to get Courtney to listen after all. The Doctor deserved her thanks for that. 

‘Yes, it did. Thank you for that.’

The Doctor blinked twice at the sudden change in his companion, having expected a list of arguments as to why he shouldn’t take students out for a spin in the TARDIS. He eyed Clara’s outstretched arms wearily. Clara laughed softly at his startled owl expression and gently encouraged him: ‘Come here, I just want to thank you for handling Courtney. Really.’ Still unsure of her intentions but also tempted by the apparent offer of a hug he stepped closer. Clara parted her knees to allow him to come nearer without her ankle being in the way. With the table nearly canceling their height differences, she quickly used this to claim one of her prized spots. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pulled him in and buried her nose in the dark curls resting behind his ear. The Doctor’s arms hovered awkwardly in mid-air for a split second before they wrapped themselves around Clara’s small frame. 

Her breath was hot on the skin of his neck and it tickled just a bit when she spoke causing his stomach to turn in a funny way. It often did when he was this close to Clara. Odd for sure, but altogether not an entirely unpleasant experience the Doctor concluded. 

‘Thank you,’ Clara whispered. He hummed in response, enjoying the sensations that came with being in close proximity with Clara. He did miss her body’s naturally higher temperature which was captured by her thick green coat. Lowering his head, he sought out the warm skin of her neck, nuzzling the spot where her jaw met her ear. She giggled when the Doctor’s cold nose made contact with her warmer skin. She tried halfheartedly to move away while the Doctor grinned and tightened his arms to stave off Clara’s escape. Her giggles turned into a soft hiss as his leg accidentally brushed her injured ankle. He froze, apologizing and stepping away from her. Clara let him, though her hands lingered on his shoulder before trailing down his arms to find his hands. 

‘It’s okay,’ she said squeezing his fingers in reassurance. 

‘Is it really throbbing?’ the Doctor asked, freeing his hands and kneeling down to inspect the damage. Clara contemplated lying for a moment, not wanting to worry him too much, but decided against it. 

She nodded. ‘Yeah.’ 

An easy silence descended around them as the Doctor set about removing Clara’s boot. As tenderly as he could, he unzipped the boot and gingerly slipped it off her foot trying not to jar her ankle too much by keeping his movements slow and steady. He repeated the process with her sock. When he finally exposed her ankle to the neon light of the room, Clara winced at the sight of the swollen joint, a large bruise already adoring the skin there. Now that she was seeing the damage it seemed as if the aching had unexpectedly increased. _What a great beginning of the new year_ , she thought sarcastically. 

The Doctor was very careful in his examination. His cool fingers were soothing against her hot skin as they traced around the inside and outside of her ankle, probing and checking for signs of damage. 

‘Will I need a wooden leg now?’ 

Clara’s words broke the quietness that had settled around them. His long fingers stopped their prodding and simply cradledher heel, his thumb drawing small circles on the instep of her foot. When he answered her question is tone was serious: ‘I’ll have to disappoint you on that, Clara. I’m afraid it’s just a sprain,’ though a playful glint shined in his eyes. Clara caught his twinkling gaze and matched it with her own mischievous one. ‘Aw and I here I was hoping to become a pirate.’ She wriggled her toes against the fabric of his brown coat. The movement hurt a bit but not as much as she had expected. They both looked down at her TARDIS blue toe nails. 

‘No space-pirate?’

The Doctor straightened up and blew out an annoyed sigh at the joke. 

‘No, no space-pirate for cheeky English teachers. Just ice.’ 

Clara pouted exaggeratedly and made her eyes go round, knowing the Doctor couldn’t stand it when she did that. She hadn’t counted on him retaliating though. When he had stood up, his right hand slid from her heel up to her calf. He just needed to move it a few centimeters and the Doctor knew Clara wouldn’t be able to do anything, let alone that, that thing with her eyes. Ever mindful of her injuries, his fingers hovered over the ticklish spot on the back of her knees and it was enough for Clara to tense. 

‘Don’t you dare!’ she pointed a finger warningly at him. 

The Doctor smirked. He had complete control of the control freak. His fingers twitched. 

‘Doctor!’ Her shriek was filled with laughter even though he hadn’t done anything yet. The Doctor pretended to consider his next course of action, his expression growing pensive with his eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed in contemplation. Clara tried to push his hand away, pressing against his forearm uselessly as her strength was no match for his. She was laughing properly now, an automatic reaction to the nearness of the Doctor’s fingers to a particularly ticklish spot. 

The rest of the room fell away as his attention narrowed to the amazing sight before him. The frown on his face softened, transforming into a tender smile as he took in Clara’s flushed cheeks, a combination of the chilly air and her mirth painting them with a soft red, framed by strands of wavy chocolate brown hair and her eyes, those mesmerizing dark orbs now shining with happiness and warmth. 

_Beautiful, his Clara_.

Gradually, Clara’s giggles died away as she managed to regain a semblance of control over her body’s involuntary responses. It was then that she noticed the Doctor’s enraptured gaze. The playful glint in his eyes had been replaced by a profound adoration that had her to blink twice in fear that she had imagined it. But no, it was still there. The Doctor was watching her like she was the center of his universe and the intensity in the deep gray clouds of his stare made her feel exactly that. Intense yet serene, almost as if he had found peace in the simple act of looking at her smiling and laughing. 

Perhaps he had.

‘How is the pain?’

The low lilt of the Doctor’s voice broke the silence. Too mesmerized by the… dare she say love? she had seen in his eyes, it took Clara a moment to process his question. 

‘Huh?’

‘Your ankle,’ the Doctor smiled gently, shifting his hand from the dangerous position behind her knee to rest on top of it, ‘does it still hurt?’

She had to think hard for her words, still caught in that joyfully serene gaze of his. No weight of the universe to cloud his eyes.

‘Eh… yeah. I mean, no, it doesn’t hurt much anymore,’ she stammered. With a quick squeeze of her knee, he let go severing their contact and making Clara feel like she had just hit a patch of turbulence when flying a plane. Her stomach dropped and she felt off-balance, and all because the Time Lord had stopped touching her. Her hands gripped the edges of the table, feeling them dig into her palms. She used the contact with the solid wood to ground herself again.

‘Good, good, that should last until I bring back some ice for it.’ There was a hint of reluctance in the Doctor’s voice, a testimony to his unwillingness to part from Clara, but he was still bound by his duty of care. 

‘Huh?’

His gentle smile acquired a knowing hint. 

‘Pain and endorphins. You’re high, Clara,’ the Doctor explained softly, his calloused finger barely brushing her cheek as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

Clara was left with a tingling sensation in her cheek while she watched dazedly as the Doctor retreated silently to the TARDIS. His trusty ship had stood in a corner of the room this whole time, but it wasn’t until now, seeing the Doctor walk through the blue doors that Clara had noticed her. 

Her mind felt sluggish, struggling with processing what had transpired in these past few minutes.  
Perhaps she was high. It would explain why she had missed the giant blue police box standing watch in the corner. She knew though, that something had definitely passed between them, something that went beyond their normal flirtatious dance. 

Bit by bit, the fog began to clear, signaling the return of the pain. In a way it helped her focus and she could once again form something resembling coherent thoughts. Her hand rose to her cheek, touching the spot where the Doctor’s fingers had ghosted over the skin. _Wonderful, soppy alien_. She smiled tenderly. All gruff and harsh on the outside, hiding a gentle and deeply caring nature of which she was the sole recipient. Him cradling her body as if it was made of fine porcelain, his little stunt just now, all done to take care of her. That knowledge caused a mixture of giddiness and affection to spread a familiar warmth through her chest. 

It was a rush. It made her heart beat faster, blood rushing through her veins full of adrenaline, her senses sharpening and a tingle of excitement settling firmly in her stomach. It was heady and intoxicating, and just as addicting as their adventures if not more. 

Love. 

Her eyes alighted on the object of her musings who was emerging from the TARDIS. The Doctor had his back to her as he exited, but when he turned his own face lit up with a broad smile. Her heart skipped a beat or two at the sight. 

Closing the TARDIS door with a soft click, the Doctor sauntered over to where Clara still sat on the table, her feet dangling above the floor, the left swinging lazily back and forth. He stopped just in front of her and produced a thick roll made of a some light blue material from the depths of his trouser pockets. He held it in front of her face, eyebrows raised and teeth biting down on his lower lip as he silently waited for her to ask him what he was holding. 

The Time Lord was itching to dazzle her with his knowledge about whatever fancy gadgetry he had found. The goal: impressing her by strutting his tail like a peacock. _He certainly has the swagger down to a T_ , Clara mused. She decided to humor him. 

‘Ok, I’ll bite, what is that?’ she nodded in the direction of the roll. 

His face lit up in excitement and Clara couldn’t help but be affected as well. The Doctor’s child-like exuberance proved too difficult to resist even if she was sometime loath to encourage it. She scooted forward a little closer to him, not minding the sharp line of the table’s edge digging into the back of her thighs. He grinned. ‘This, Clara, is a bandage from 25th century Earth. It’s a nifty piece of technology as it serves as a pain relief, cooling pack, pressure bandage and athletic tape. Perfect for human teachers who like to twist their ankles during lunch.’ 

‘Hey!’ indignantly she swatted at his chest, ‘I was dodging a football. It was an accident!’

‘Which reminds me, you should have a word with those children. That was a dangerous game,’ he pointed one slim index finger at her face. Clara frowned with a slight pout and pushed away the digit. ‘They’re boys, it’s all in good fun. Besides,’ she turned her pout into a winning smile that she knew would mellow him, ‘I have my Doctor to take care of any accident-related injuries.’ 

The Doctor harrumphed in response, but Clara could see that he was fighting back a smile. 

My Doctor. The words repeated themselves in his mind. Clara Oswald, English teacher, had just said that he was her Doctor. Hers. His hearts sped up, as if he was running for his life. Only this time, he was running toward Clara. He chanced a look at her before quickly darting his gaze away. Yeah, that seemed like a solid plan, run toward Clara. Maybe crash into her and become hopelessly entangled while he was at it. The Doctor felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his head to hide his all to obvious reaction at Clara’s words. 

He remained quiet as he wrapped Clara’s ankle, but he could feel her gaze on him, observing silently the way he skillfully bandaged the sprained joint. 

The nose of Clara’s remaining boot tapped his shoulder making him glance up. He found Clara watching him with eyes filled with a deep emotion that he had come to recognize and understand as he caught it being directed at him more and more often. He found it difficult to put a label on it, as if naming it would cause this wonderful and confusing sensation to disintegrate and fall apart, as much fragile and feeble as it was strong. Just like Clara’s existence really, a thought that scared him, terrified even. But the Doctor knew the emotion shining in Clara’s dark eyes. Oh how well he knew it. Had seen it mirrored in his own eyes often enough. 

‘Thank you,’ Clara said smiling softly, ‘for taking care of me.’ 

The Doctor blinked. 

‘I have a duty of care.’ the words slipped out of his mouth without thinking. He cared for his Clara, deeply and intensely, therefore he had a duty to take care of her. Simple. It was as natural to him as breathing.

Clara’s smiled widened. Leaning down her hands let go of the table to cup the Doctor’s cheeks and bring him close enough for her to place a tender kiss on his forehead. She lingered for a second before pulling back and searching his eyes. Satisfied with what she saw, she lovingly brushed his nose with hers in an Eskimo kiss and rested her forehead on his. 

‘I know, my impossible man, I know. And you do so perfectly,’ she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. 

The Doctor took in the blissful expression gracing Clara features, himself feeling a bubble of bliss gradually expanding inside his chest. ‘Clara,’ he whispered as he returned her earlier gesture by nuzzling her nose briefly with his, ‘let me finish bandaging your ankle.’ His hands still cradled her foot, his left holding the bandage in place. She made a noise of protest although she slowly acquiesced, her eyes opening and immediately seeking out his. 

‘I was quite comfortable, you know,’ she complained, only half-serious. The Doctor frowned disbelievingly at her. ‘What? With your neck craned like that?’ Clara straightened and her hands retreated back to the table. The loss of her warm hands left him feeling cold and bereft. She shrugged and gave him a coy smile. ‘I was close to you.’ 

His brain froze for a moment as it struggled to interpret the strange tone that accompanied Clara’s words. Flirtatious, that was it. Clara was flirting with him. A forgotten concept to him, she had been forced to explain it to him a few months back during a night spent in a damp cell on the planet Massh. 

Famous for its healing massages, he had taken Clara there after she had complained of a back ache. They had saved the day and had been offered the chance to dine with the President and his wife. It had been then that he had apparently committed a faux-pas and they had been promptly thrown into a jail.

He had failed to understand why the President would, seemingly out of the blue, decide to lock them up. Clara had given him a disbelieving look before sitting him down and break it to him that commenting on the restorative properties of Masshanian massages to the First Lady while smiling disarmingly at the poor woman could be considered flirting and that many partners frowned upon such behavior from third parties. The Doctor had scoffed at the insinuation as he had never had such intentions, but Clara had told him that other people, human or otherwise, would have interpreted it as flirting. 

Clara’s back ache had not been cured, but the Doctor had at least learned a valuable lesson. Flirting was a decidedly treacherous terrain of social interaction for which Clara had never provided flash-cards. It left him slightly clueless as to how to respond to her flirting. Although unconsciously he had apparently no problem with flirting, he had difficulties turning it into a conscious action.

Ok, he could do this. Smile, yes, that was good. What else? Clara liked hugs, awkward positions or not. Right. Ok. 

The Doctor swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and he felt nervous: his hearts were lodged in his throat and the palms of his hands were sweaty even though the temperature in the room was nowhere near warm. A fleeting thought of him being sick passed through his mind.

‘Ah… You can hug me properly once I’m done?’ He forced a smile. It sounded awful even to his ears, causing the Doctor to cringe internally. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He chose to lower his gaze to the task at hand to avoid seeing Clara’s reaction at his doomed effort at a flirtatious come-back. 

Too focused on finishing his task, he missed the way Clara’s eyes widened. She had to fight hard not to giggle at his adorably awkward attempt at flirting back. She had caught the Doctor’s look of embarrassment and the need to comfort him was almost impossible to ignore. Clara knew that he could charm the armor off a Dalek if he really wanted. The problem was that he was trying too hard, forcing things which she was sure would come much more naturally if the Time Lord relaxed a bit. However, she also knew just how difficult doing that really was. Clara suspected that she wasn’t the only one with a fluttering feeling in her chest.

Clara waited quietly until the Doctor had secured the end of the blue bandage and finally raised his head to look at her. His gray eyes were guarded, almost as if he was nervous about her reaction. _As stupid a notion as that is_ , thought Clara. Holding her hand out to him, she helped him get back to his feet, though she didn’t let go once he was standing in front of her. Instead, she laced their fingers together, admiring the way his long fingers engulfed most of her hand. 

‘I know you can do charming and flirting,’ she tried to reassure him, her eyes traveling from their clasped hands up to his eyes. He was reluctant to meet her gaze so she tilted his chin a little to get him to look at her. ‘You don’t have to try extra hard to impress me. That thing in the courtyard? Carrying me in your arms? You charmed quite a few girls there. Mysterious, silver-head Scottish caretaker carrying hapless English teachers…’ she let her voice trail off, smiling, ‘Might have to get used to having them stare at you with far away gazes.’ 

‘Was this hapless English teacher charmed too?’ 

There was an element of shyness in the Doctor’s voice, but it was accompanied by something beguiling that only served to lure her toward him. It also proved her point about him and flirting. At the same time, Clara became aware of the Doctor tracing random patterns on her palms and making the skin there tingle. Glancing away from his intense stare and the unspoken questions lurking there, she bit her lip. 

It didn’t take long for a big grin to break out. ‘Yup,’ she nodded, ‘definitely. Now come here, you said something about a hug,’ Clara laughed and tugged at their intertwined hands. The Doctor went eagerly, feeling quite pleased with himself. With their arms around the other, his circling her slim waist and hers wrapped around his neck, Clara parted her legs to allow him to press closer. 

There was something different about this hug than any they had previously shared. The air surrounding them was charged with a palpable electricity. Her injury was quickly forgotten as the pair become caught up in the sensation evoked by their close proximity. Both were breathing just a little heavier than normal. Clara’s heart was thumping hard inside her chest, and so were his. Hands roamed a little bit more than a strictly friendly hug necessitated. 

Clara’s pulse fluttered slightly when the Doctor once again buried his nose in her neck. It had become a favorite spot of his, and he enjoyed the way Clara’s different scents mingled there. She liked it too, especially how lips sometimes ghosted over the sensitive skin of her neck. Like now. 

‘You know,’ the Doctor began but quieted when he felt Clara shiver from the combination of his lips and breath caressing her neck. Her sigh this time was shorter and sounded more like a soft gasp to his ears. The urge rose unbidden to press his lips more firmly to that particular spot of Clara’s neck. He wanted to hear her make that sound again. Resisting it seemed stupid. The opportunity was right there, mere millimeters from him. Why not take it? 

She startled him out of the internal debate. 

‘Know what?’ Clara murmured, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of his face. 

The Doctor realized his window of opportunity was closing. Making a split second decision he kissed his favored spot, delighting in the way Clara’s breath hitched. He pulled back a bit, his arms lowering to table’s surface, bracketing her in and preventing any escape. Their eyes met and he gave her his best half-smirk. 

‘You shouldn’t use your ankle for the rest of the day. Give it time to heal.’

Seeing the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, Clara caught on quickly. Threading her fingers in the dark curls at the nape of his neck, she brought the Doctor closer while simultaneously tilting her head upward a little until she was close enough to count the flecks of gold in his irises.

‘Suppose you’ll have to carry me around for the rest of the day then,’ Clara replied, a little breathlessly. 

The Doctor made a sound of distracted agreement, his gaze dropping to watch her tongue dart out to wet her lips. When his eyes found hers again, they were darker and slightly hooded, yet still holding a twinkle of excitement. ‘Such a chore,’ he breathed and closed the remaining gap, his thin lips caressing hers. They each breathed a sigh of relief. The tension that had been building since Christmas, since their night spent together on her couch, found an escape while they grew familiar with this new type of contact. Soon though, they found it slightly difficult to maintain the kiss as they kept smiling in between pecks, feeling giddy and silly and happy all at the same time. 

Inching closer, the Doctor’s hands rose to cup Clara’s cheeks, her own burying themselves deeper his springy curls. The nature of the kiss slowly changed as other instincts urged them to press closer. Their initial mirth subsided, making place for a need to deepen the kiss. 

Clara had just granted him access, moaning lightly when his tongue stroked hers, when they heard the voice of the headmaster intruding rudely in their little world. 

‘Clara, I heard from some of the students that you fell and might have hurt your ankle,’ the headmaster started as he pushed open the door to the room, ‘I just wanted to let you know that…’ Mr. Armitage trailed off as his eyes landed on the scene in front of him. 

The Doctor and Clara jumped apart guiltily, both red faced and breathing hard. The Doctor cleared his throat nervously, his eyes flittering over the stacks of paper towels behind Clara. Looking anywhere really except at his would be employer or the woman he had just been kissing. Clara blushed even harder under the bemused gaze of the headmaster and wrung her hands together, suddenly all too aware of her inability to flee the scene. The discarded boot stared at her mockingly from where it lay on the floor. 

‘I see that there is no need for concern. Mr. Smith has clearly being taking excellent care of you.’ Mr. Armitage gave the blushing pair a knowing look, disguising a laugh with a cough. ‘Well Clara, I just wanted to let you know that Adrian has offered to take over your afternoon classes so you can go home and… rest.’ This time the older man was unable to hide his chuckles. 

Clara straightened her spine in an attempt to regain some of her dignity, as if she hadn’t just been caught by her boss giving Coal Hill’s caretaker a very thorough tonsil exam. Did Time Lords even have tonsils?

‘I ah… thank you. I think I will, take the afternoon off that is.’ She glanced from the headmaster to the Doctor a bit anxiously. 

‘Good, good. Take all the time you need,’ Mr. Armitage smiled, turning to leave, ‘Oh, I do apologize for interrupting. Carry on!’ he added jovially before shutting the door behind him.

The room’s occupants remained silent for a long moment, both staring at the closed door until Clara burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. The Doctor soon joined in. ‘That happened,’ Clara choked out between giggles. Gradually though she calmed, her gaze falling on the slowly approaching Time Lord. Unconsciously she licked her lower lip, remembering vividly how his lips had felt moving over hers. 

‘It did,’ the Doctor replied, stopping mere centimeters from her. 

‘You think we should do as Mr. Armitage said? Carry on?’ Clara asked him. The Doctor shrugged and settled his hands on her hips. ‘He is your boss, you should probably do as he says.’ ‘He is your boss too right now, Mr. Caretaker,’ Clara reminded him. She trailed her hands up his chest and took hold of the lapels of his brown jacket. 

‘Excellent point, Miss Oswald. Carry on then,’ the Doctor said smirking. Clara shook her head, half smiling, and pulled him down for a long kiss. 

_Fin_


End file.
